


I'll Make It Better (But How?)

by PhantasmaDormi



Series: Botany [1]
Category: Mianite - Fandom, Mianite Awakening, Mianite Awakening (Mianite Fan Series), Mianite(Youtube Series), Minecraft - Fandom
Genre: (atm), Angst, Botany, Characters not of my creation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Rare Pair, Thanatology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 12:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12276159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantasmaDormi/pseuds/PhantasmaDormi
Summary: After the death of Subject 01, Botan hasn't been quite the same… He's overworking himself, ‘forgetting’ to eat or sleep, and beyond determined to perfect his experiments. But it's not healthy, and Death isn't having any of it.





	I'll Make It Better (But How?)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maiatan_Fallan (Aeregele)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeregele/gifts).



> Old work from sometime within the past month  
> Based on Maiatan_Fallan's Perfect

There weren't many times Death could say he was full blie worried for his partner. Concerned? More than once. Botan wasn't known to keep the best hours after all. But fretting not just about his physical health, but his mental? That was new.

Very few times has Death seen something cause unease in the scientist, let alone utter devastation. And while he liked to believe he could read and comfort him rather well, he wasn't sure what to do. Botan’s almost immediate response to the passing of 01, mere minutes after its body had settled to dust and disappeared, was to go to work once more. Jaw set, lips in a tight line, he found his way back to his office, locking himself in.

Which left Death outside, aimlessly staring at the stains he had yet to finish cleaning. (If only the other man weren't so messy with his failed experiments). On one hand, he knew Botan better dealt with his emotions alone. But in the other, he was horrible about dealing with raw, oppressive emotions at all. With a sigh, he slowly walked away from the room. He'd clean up, and if Botan isn't better in the time it takes, he’ll do… something.

(Later, he'd think that maybe he should have set a timer instead).  
~

It was with great satisfaction that Death set aside his cleaning supplies to view his handy work. The corridor, even in its dim lighting, look remarkably cleaner, now that the irritating blemish was removed from the floor. And, while he was in the mood, he took it upon himself to see to some of the more neglected areas down the way, clearing the collection of dust and unnamed pieces of unpleasant odor. (He was disgusted by them, how had he not removed them earlier? Well, he had been rather distracted the past few days…) 

As he passed by the offices, he was struck by the need to check on Botan. Cursing lowly to himself, he semi-reluctantly parted with the faintly foul smelling bag and knocked on the other man’s door. Ears straining, he picked up only a hint of sound from the other side, one akin to scratching. After a few moments of silence, he sighed, and tried to open the door himself. It didn’t budge. Of course.

Taking a moment to move the trash bag to the can out back, he considered his next action. He could, rather he was going to, unlock Botan’s office with the spare key he kept, but what after that? How could he ease the ache within the man’s heart? Despite not having been found of the rather… large reptile himself, it was easy to see how much Botan (begrudgingly) loved him. And if he had to see that look once more, the unguarded, unhidden, pure anguish in Botan’s face, he was going to have to take drastic measures. Unlocking Botan’s door without his permission? Well, that was one such thing.

With hurried steps, he scouted through his drawers, carefully retrieving the key he kept stashed inside. It was meant for opening the door when Botan had forgotten his key, or if Death was still there and Botan had left, and needed something from the room. Though he supposed, right now, he needed Botan from the room. 

In an act of courtesy, he knocked once more. This time, the scratching paused, before rapidly resuming again. With a huff, Death fumbled the key into the lock, turning the bolt. The door opened silently, the hinges well oiled. Though the other man was sure to have heard him, he made no indication that he did. As Death stepped into the room, he worried at his lip. What was he going to say?

The sounds of his footsteps and that constant scratching noise were the only things breaking the silence. Now in better view of his companion, he could see that the irritating scratching was his pencil, which honestly shouldn’t have surprised him. But, how could he so seamlessly work after such emotional turmoil? 

Though, as he came up beside the hunched figure, he could see this was not the case. Where notes were normally more… organized per se. These seemed to be more of a jumble, as though he was thinking in fits and bursts, filling each empty thought with mindless rambling. In the dim lighting set up on the desk, Death could see the fading streaks lining his eyes, the bloodshot look only just starting to settle. Had he been crying? Full on unable to keep himself in check? 

Carefully setting a hand upon Botan’s off to the side, he gently commented, “I think it's time to stop.” 

His only response was a noncommittal grunt and his fingers tightening on his pencil. 

“This isn’t how you should grieve.” Death reached out to stay the writing hand, earning him a sharp look. 

With the new angle of his head, one could see Botan’s wretched expression. It was a mix of anger and agony, some twist of hurt that would not ease on its own.

Sighing, Death resorted to more direct measures. Pulling away, he gave Botan no chance to pick up where he left off as he tried to go at it again. Instead, he dragged his chair back from the desk, receiving an annoyed tisk and increased glare. By now, he was sure the scientist would have shared a few choice words to deter him, but perhaps he was afraid to. After all, someone who had been crying would lose their voice to their sorrows.

Moving back in front of him, he did what he should have done much, much earlier. Death hugged him. In that small space, leaned over awkwardly and curled around Botan’s bent form, he offered the best comfort he could. No words would fill the void, no talking would replace 01, but at the very least, a hug could provide a warmth lacking in his chilled heart. And the two stayed like that, paying no mind to the tears once more escaping into the world. (This time, Botan didn’t try to stop them)

(Later, Death’s back would hurt like a bitch. But it was worth it to feel the change in mood from his partner. He wasn’t quite alright, but they would get there)

**Author's Note:**

> (Apparently the characterization was pretty good)


End file.
